


A language of our own

by LadyBlack3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Language of Flowers, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Rare Pairings, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlack3/pseuds/LadyBlack3
Summary: Disappointed with a recent break up and dealing with the growing feelings for your friend's mother-in-law can be a bit tricky but perhaps it's time for a fresh start. Ginny didn't think helping Hermione plan her wedding would bring her closer to the Malfoy widow but as they say, love finds you when you least expect it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14
Collections: With Love Weasley





	A language of our own

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [With_Love_Weasley](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/With_Love_Weasley) collection. 



> Written for 'With Love, Weasley, a Valentine's themed writing fest hosted by the wonderful Weasleys, Witches, & Writers group.
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Language of flowers.
> 
> All characters and Harry Potter universe belong to J.K.Rowling, plot and writing is mine and I make no profit from this piece of work. Kate Blanchet is irrevocably my fancast for Narcissa - she's hot, sue me. Hope you enjoy!

“Love is like wildflowers; it’s often found in the most unlikely places.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

**16th December 2006**

The soft lights guided the path through the beautiful gardens dusted in a light layer of snow into the grand Manor which was dressed in sparkling whites, greys and soft accents of reds for the happiest occasion since the war. Her best friend Hermione Granger finally agreed to marry the Perpetually-Persistent-Prat.

Many of their friends and family members had strong feelings about the muggleborn marrying someone who was once their childhood bully, but the boy who hurt her with vicious words was far from the man who stood beside her in a dapper navy suit. Even she would admit as much in face of the effort he made post-war to repair the Malfoy family reputation and genuinely contribute to reparations. He was still the sassy, dramatic git he used to be but now his humour was actually funny and he did treat Hermione like a queen while still keeping her on her toes. It was clear to see how much love was between the two, which was why Ginny supported their relationship early on despite having some reservations about Draco.

Their engagement party was just what they all needed to kick off the Christmas break this year, and she had to say that the current Lady of the Manor outdid herself once again. After handing over her cloak to one of the hired staff for the evening, she looked around the beautiful ballroom and had to appreciate the soft supportive touch of the muggleborn’s soon-to-be mother in law. Narcissa Malfoy was suitably delighted to be overseeing the wedding, as Hermione’s parents were no longer with them due to a car accident in Australia that took their lives shortly after the war. She knew the brunette still found the opulence and old money a bit dizzying and uncomfortable despite her middle-class upbringing but Narcissa took to providing a guiding hand here and there as needed and welcome at the start, which helped them form the mother of the groom and maid of honour planning duo. And through all the meetings ahead of the wedding, Ginny found herself enjoying working with the reigning Lady Malfoy to make the big day come true. 

“Ginny,” Hermione beamed in greeting, looking splendid in a warm burgundy dress that easily made her the star of the evening with her lovely curves and wild chocolate curls piled atop her head elegantly. “You look lovely,” she offered as they greeted each other with a quick hug and kiss to the cheek. 

“Thank you, as do you both,” she greeted Draco with a quick kiss to his cheek. “Blondie.”

“Ginge,” he grinned and looked around in surprise. “Morrigan not with you?”

Ginny shook her head, slipping her hands into the hidden pockets of her flowing black skirt. “We broke up last week,” she explained, the recent split still disappointing but equally needed.

“I’m sorry, you seemed to be doing well,” Hermione squeezed her arm gently in comfort. 

Ginny shrugged a little. “We were, but it wasn’t our time and she wasn’t…it.”

Hermione smiled at her a little sadly. “In that case you can celebrate the love she brought while you were happy. I know your one is out there,” she promised.

“Well,” She smiled wider at the both of them. “I’m glad you found your one and your happiness in each other. I’ll catch you later, you have other guests to see,” she kissed Hermione’s cheek and moved on from monopolising the young couple.

After ordering a double measure of Lagavulin, she carried her tumbler to the nearby balcony for a spot of fresh air on the enchanted platform which appeared to be abandoned. The air was cool and she sighed as it caressed her bare shoulders, allowing herself to relax for a moment and roll her neck muscles tiredly.

That was when she smelled the eucalyptus and mugwort blend which was a rather distinct brand of smoke. “Good evening, Narcissa,” she greeted, taking a sip of her whiskey as she waited for the woman to acknowledge her from whatever hiding spot she was using to keep an eye on the guests. 

She felt a brush of magic on the left as a small barrier came down to reveal the Lady of the Manor in a splendid silver satin gown, seated on a cushioned bench as she took another toke from her herbal cigarette.

“Ginevra,” she acknowledged and invited her to sit with her, adjusting the white fur throw over her shoulders.

Ginny gladly accepted the offered seat but shook her head at the cigarette case, before changing her mind. “Actually, sod it. Might as well,” she took one and flicked her wrist to release her wand from a hidden holster, lighting the tip with a contented sigh. 

Narcissa looked surprised, she has been offering for the past few months as was polite but the redhead was yet to accept one. This was indeed unprecedented. “I read the article in the Prophet yesterday. Are you well?” she asked.

Ginny exhaled a plume of smoke as she crossed her legs for more comfort. “She accepted a contract for the California Calico team. She’s always enjoyed traveling around the US and is particularly fond of San Francisco so she’ll fit right in, I think,” she mused. 

“I didn’t enquire about Miss Carstairs,” Narcissa pointed out.

She shrugged again, trying to shake off the melancholy. “I’ll be fine, with a bit of time. Two years together in our world with two active players in the relationship is considered commitment, and I did love her at one point but I know it wasn’t to be so. So, I guess I’m as well as can be under the circumstances,” she answered, turning her sparkling caramel gaze to the woman beside her. “You look lovely,” she complimented with a small smile. 

“Thank you,” Narcissa inclined her head. “I believe this is my last real event as Lady Malfoy, so I thought to ring it in with style,” she offered.

The young couple were due to get married in the winter gardens below the balcony in just a month, a lovely enchanted January wedding that many brides were sure to aim to replicate in the coming years as the Malfoys have always been trend-setters. Since Lucius passed away earlier this year during his stint in Azkaban and Draco inheriting the title of the Lord of the Manor, his new wife would take over as Lady Malfoy, in title and with all the responsibilities that come with it. Not that they were going to follow the rules of the old guard but there were a couple of events the Malfoys threw each year so Hermione agreed to take on the duties as long as she had some help so she could continue her work. Narcissa of course agreed to provide her expertise and keen eye, further bonding with her new daughter-in-law which seemed to please both women.

“Do you intend to go back to your maiden name?” Ginny asked curiously. 

Narcissa nodded, taking one more delicate toke before banishing the remnants of her cigarette. “Yes. It will make for a nice change. Andy was disowned so she can’t have the family title and Draco would rather keep his Malfoy titles, so I’ll be taking over as Lady Black until young Teddy is old enough to take over the Black inheritance as per Mr Potter’s wishes. With a few smart investments to reinvigorate the Black coffers under my watch, he will be a very wealthy young man,” she offered by way of explanation.

“So what does the future hold for Lady Black?” Ginny took a toke from her cigarette as well and banished it before casting a mild heating charm over them both to ward against the chill.

Narcissa sipped her champagne and looked at her with that small, mysterious smile that could mean just about anything - an expression that had always intrigued the redhead. “Well, now that the Manor is renovated to the comfort of the next generation, and the Orphanage is doing well, I think I might take a break and do a bit of travel after the wedding,” she mused. “And what about yourself? Still happy with the Harpies?”

Ginny wasn’t sure how to answer that so she took a moment as she looked over the lovely garden before them. “Yes and no. It’s thrilling, the matches. The lifestyle and constant travel without getting to actually see the sights, not so much,” she admitted.

“Well, what would you wish to do if you were no longer flying?” Narcissa asked curiously. 

For some reason, Ginny found it comfortable to speak to the woman. There was something about her that once they broke the ice a couple of wedding planning meetings in, she found herself able to tell her what was really on her mind without wariness. “I’ve thought about that, sport can only sustain us for so long. I’ve been taking a muggle University course in journalism and business, perhaps I would enjoy getting some writing experience at a newspaper,” she mused.

“Clever girl,” Narcissa’s smile was approving, looking to the open doors when the music quieted and a spoon clinked against crystal to get everyone’s attention, interrupting the moment. “Ah, that would be our cue. I hope Draco keeps his speech short this time,” she mused as they stood and headed back in, parting at the door with a last smile to each other.

After a few speeches and the newly engaged couple taking the first dance, Ginny did her rounds, catching up with Neville and Hannah, and Luna who was by herself this time as Rolf was supporting the Swedish dragon reserve team over the holidays. She felt a pang at the memory of the Malfoy Beltane celebration where she had danced with Morrigan, both of them twirling in this very room and laughing as they ate, danced and then headed to the grounds to make an offering to the Gods. Now she stood here seven months later, alone and wondering whether she would still feel like this when Beltane came round again next year.

Hermione appeared at her elbow and took her hand, pulling her to the dance floor with a grin. Ginny allowed herself to be tugged, realising the tune lent itself to a cross-step waltz which was an easy dance to change lead partner. She spotted Draco taking a page from their book and twirling Narcissa elegantly in a mother/son dance. 

“How are you, really?” the bride-to-be asked, allowing herself to be twirled.

“I’m fine. And you shouldn’t be fussing over me at your engagement party,” she replied pointedly and allowed herself to be led into a step as they changed leads. 

“I’m a worrier. I’ll always worry about you,” Hermione sighed as her gaze fell on the two blonds. “I even started to worry about Narcissa,” she admitted.

Ginny chuckled. “Ha, now that’s a pointless exercise. There’s a woman who will always land on her feet and find her place,” she pointed out. 

Hermione agreed but the slight frown between her brows remained. “She’s been so supportive, and I know she’ll be fine but please help me look out for her? You two seem to have become friends.”

Ginny thought about it for a moment, catching sight of the blond pair as they spun past them. “I think we are friends of sorts, but I don’t know if we’ll have reason to keep in touch like this after the wedding,” she pointed out. 

Hermione however shook her head, unconvinced. “I think we could all use more friends,” she suggested.

And that sure was the case. Many of their classmates died in the war or moved away shortly after. Their society was just about recovered from the worst impact of the war but finding good friends and battling prejudice were still tasks difficult to do alone. And with the way she’d been traveling around the world, gone for months at a time, Ginny didn’t have that many friends, not to mention close ones. “Wouldn’t it be strange for Draco, for you?” she asked, well aware that Narcissa was in her early fifties, a widow, and her son was a year older than herself. And yet they had an easy rapport and it was rare that she really worried about what people thought about her life-choices.

Hermione looked at her curiously. “Why would it be? Morrigan was ten years older than you, you never really got on that well with people your own age, and Draco will get over himself. Who has the right to say you shouldn’t be close?” she pointed out.

“Just checking. Most people I couldn’t care less about. Your friendship thought, that I wouldn’t want to lose,” she said honestly.

“As if you ever could,” Hermione smiled at her openly and pulled her into a hug just as the blond pair stopped beside them and Draco pulled his fiancée for another dance rather close to his chest. 

Narcissa and Ginny stood together for a moment as a soft string ballad filled the room before the redhead offer her elbow to her. “Drink?” she asked.

“By all means,” Narcissa agreed and accepted her arm as they headed for the bar in companionable silence. 

**27th January 2007**

“I know I said it before when you were trying on this dress, but you look stunning. Draco won’t know what hit him,” Ginny beamed as she helped straighten the train of the lovely ivory gown Hermione chose.

It was a simple vintage design that highlighted her slight waist and the curve of her hips delicately, soft pearl buttons on the long sleeves snug on the wrists. Her curls were tamed beautifully into an elegant braid with a glistening opal and sapphire comb which was her something old and something blue. Her pearl earrings were a gift from Draco, something new. And that left something borrowed, which the redhead had covered. 

“And I know it’s not much but I hope it will bring you that good luck you so deserve,” she pulled a simple white handkerchief with three beautiful gold stars hand-stitched into each corner.

“Oh Ginny, is this the handkerchief you let me borrow that day?” she asked, her eyes suspiciously glossy.

She nodded and watching her friend caress the edge fondly. Nearly five years ago now Hermione had a small fainting spell in the lift at the Ministry, remnants from the curse Dolohov used to weaken her heart. Draco was the only other person in the lift and managed to catch her but not before she bumped her knee, and took her back to her office where Ginny had been waiting for her to go for their lunch date. It was the only clean handkerchief she had on her, lovingly hand-stitched by her mum, so they used it to clean and cool off the bleeding skin on her knee as Draco fussed over the brunette. It was the very same day he blurted out a long-overdue apology and offered to bring them lunch. It was the beginning of a friendship between two colleagues that grew into the love that brought them here today, and Hermione knew she couldn’t have asked for a better borrowed item than something so meaningful to her. 

“Thank you, so much,” she hugged the redhead tightly, sniffling a little. “Promise to give it back once the photos are taken,” she gently tucked the handkerchief into the lace band of her stockings to keep it close.

“You should wait to cry after the ceremony,” Narcissa quietly slid into the room, her words gentle and tone teasing but also non-negotiable.

“I know, I know. I promise to do my best,” Hermione sighed and gently wiped the corner of her eyes with her little finger to not smudge her mascara. “Honestly, you would think they could invent something that can stick better,” she chuckled.

“You’ll be just fine. I bet you’ll have Draco blubbering though,” Ginny grinned in anticipation of the sight, though she couldn’t hold it against him if he did.

Narcissa’s snort was quiet but nonetheless caught by both young women. “If you think Draco will be bad, make sure to notice Theodore. He’s a cheeky young man but he always tears up at weddings. Ever since he was a little boy and his beast of a father dropped him off at the Manor to play with Draco. We caught them once having a wedding ceremony, Draco was marrying his dragon toy to Theodore’s wolf plushie,” her smile warm at the memory but devious at the same time. It was the right of any mother to embarrass her son just a smidge after all, and she practically brought up Theo herself so she felt no remorse at divulging the tidbit.

Ginny’s grin only widened. “I can’t wait to ask the best man if he remembered to bring his plushie.”

Narcissa’s gaze turned to her in amusement. “That should put him suitably off pinching your behind as he has a habit of,” she pointed out. 

Unlike Narcissa’s, Hermione snort was in-elegant. “He tried that once. Ginny’s bat-bogey still gives him the shudders to this date so I really don’t think there will be any inappropriate touching between the best man and maid of honour,” she pointed out.

“Ah yes, I hear you had a particular talent for that one. Any other hidden talents?” Narcissa asked conversationally as they checked the bridal bouquet and helped Hermione slip into her shoes.

“I’ll have to spin you for a dance to tell you,” Ginny grinned before her gaze turned serious. “No, really. Please save me from dancing with Blaise, I can’t take the bloody innuendos,” she near pleaded. 

Narcissa hid her mirth as she squatted down to help straighten the train for the last time. “Very well, how I could I say no such a request?” she agreed.

Just in time for the soft knock on the door. “It’s time!” Theo called through.

“Ready, love?” Ginny smiled at her friend, genuinely happy to be a part of her next step in life. 

Hermione nodded with a smile that was set to light up the whole garden as they stepped out into the corridor and arranged themselves in a short procession.

Ginny hooked her hand through Theo’s elbow and they headed down the left staircase, complimentary in royal blue suit and dress to witness their best friends’ hand-fastening. Narcissa wore an elegant set of dress robes, this time a flowing black and silver brocade piece, otherwise devoid of the trademark emerald and diamond Malfoy jewellery. Instead her neck was proudly displaying the onyx necklace of her Black heritage as she walked towards the free seat saved for her beside Ginny in the front row of the small half-moon seating facing the family runic circle for the ceremony.

All heads turned to watch Draco and Hermione pause as they saw each other, taking a moment to take the other in before each descending down one of the staircases to join together at the bottom and walk to the bonding circle hand in hand. Most of the ceremony was a blur for Ginny, as despite her best efforts, she felt her own eyes well up. It was an end of an era for Hermione and herself, as she knew the brunette hoped to start to build a home and a family some time in the next couple of years. She just hoped to always be there for Hermione in whatever way their friendship would allow.

She felt a soft, cool hand discreetly squeeze her own a moment later, realising that Narcissa was comforting her, likely as much as she was trying to comfort herself. She turned to look at the blonde and could so clearly see the pride and love she held in her gaze for her only son. They were safe, and the latest generation of Malfoys was in good hands. Her shoulders relaxed marginally as the white and gold ribbons magically wrapped around Hermione’s and Draco’s joined hands before dissolving in an arc of soft pearly glow as their soul-bond solidified between them.

Surrounded by family and friends, Ginny felt both nostalgic and at peace, a strange dichotomy she carried with her to the reception back in the ballroom of the large Manor. Part of it perhaps was the marked absence of the rest of her family, who along with Harry still refused to acknowledge and approve of Hermione marrying Draco. She hoped that at least her presence and steadfast support helped Hermione enjoy her day. It did however leave her in a room full of Aurors, lawyers and Slytherins, and for some reason she almost felt the need to flee back to the winter garden just outside. 

“I feel it is my turn to return the offer,” a pale, elegant hand appeared next to her with a glass of what looked like whiskey.

She lifted it to her nose, instantly hit by the concentrated notes of Lapsang Souchong, peat, mature Sherry and creamy vanilla. “Lagavulin. You have a good memory,” she offered and took a sip, allowing the liquid to glide over her tongue before swallowing it slowly and enjoying the salt and pepper after-note.

Narcissa merely offered a minute smile, amusement deepening her howlite eyes. “Perhaps a stroll is in order?” she motioned at the balcony and was rewarded with a silent grateful look from the redhead. 

They walked down the steps and around the garden that was kept under protective and heating charms still, the perimeter of the charms revealing a magical barrier between warm and snow-covered grounds. They wanderer back towards the bonding circle where the ceremony took place earlier, the noise of the reception reducing and the sound of the string quartet soft and lulling.

Narcissa’s fingers trailed the lovely bundles of flowers at each row before elegantly plucking one with an easy tug. “I will miss these gardens, they brought me great comfort in years past,” she offered aloud.

Ginny sat down in one of the chairs in the front row, crossing her legs easily to take the pressure off from the heels, grateful for the cushioning charms but still none-too-fond of the precarious footwear. “I know little about gardening, enough for a semi-decent herb garden on my windowsills,” she admitted. “I did enjoy the one time we discussed flowers, back in fifth year. I think it was a week before Valentine’s Day and Professor Sprout had us do reading for a quiz on the language of flowers. It was interesting, but I don’t really get flowers from anyone so never had to use the knowledge,” she mused before stilling when she felt a warm hand land on her shoulder to steady her.

“Well then,” Narcissa gently plucked one of the pins keeping her hair pulled back by her temple, “we shall have to remedy that,” she smiled and carefully attached the flower she just plucked into the fold of the hair, a gentle wandless sticking charm keeping it in place. 

Ginny reached up to caress the soft white petals carefully as her companion took a seat beside her.“What flower is it?” she asked, unsure as flower arrangements were taken care of by the blonde. 

“White camellia, a fitting flower for you in these quiet moments I think,” was all she said before changing the subject and asking about her upcoming contract review with the Harpies.

They talked for about an hour before rejoining the main party, in time to see the newlyweds off to catch their international portkey to Mauritius for their honeymoon. It was nearly ten in the evening by the time Ginny returned home to her empty, dark flat.

Morrigan had finally taken the last of her belongings a week ago, leaving some blank walls and extra space in the two bedroom flat in Chelsea. Looking around the cold, half empty space, Ginny knew it was time for a change. Perhaps a move, this time into a better flat or even a townhouse. And as her contract review with the Harpies was coming up soon, perhaps moving now would give her enough time to finish her dissertation and look for work. The earlier feeling of nostalgia was back, but with it also an excitement for a new chapter in her life.

As she undressed and got ready for bed, the white camellia sat on her dressing table and she knew there was one more thing she needed to do before Morpheus took her. Her fingers travelled the bookshelf until she came to the rather small herbology section mixed in with a few cook books, and plucked ‘The Language of Flowers, 4th Edition’ from its snug spot.

There, on page 37 was the picture of a camellia and as she searched the colours, her lips quirked into a soft smile - ‘pure affection’ and ‘thinking of someone as sweet’. She had been called many things in her life but never quite sweet due to her fiery passion and bouts of stubbornness. That Narcissa found their quiet moments worthy of affection was another matter altogether. With that errant thought, she slipped into her thermal henley and snuggled down in bed, the smile remained long on her lips even as she slept. 

**14th February 2007**

She sipped her coffee eagerly, as indulging in one of these vanilla lattes that Hermione got her too used to was still something she did rarely rather than regularly, especially during training season. Today she didn’t care and with a ‘fuck it’ attitude strolled in and got herself the hot sweet beverage and a croissant. At least she was able to enjoy her treats out on the terrace, keeping warm under a subtle heating charm, instead of indoors surrounded by the pink monstrosity. 

Valentines Day was upon them once again and the whole of both muggle and wizarding world have gone bonkers with pink hearts, balloons and gaudy decorations. She never celebrated the holiday and even when in a relationship, she avoided the affair ever since leaving Hogwarts and her rather disastrous singing Valentine to Harry. What she did have a habit of doing was sending a little card to each of her friends with one thing she was grateful for in their friendship. She didn’t believe in showing someone love with cheap tat one day a year, but rather being there for those she loved, and taking the blasted day to remind them of something she appreciated about them and their friendship instead.

This year, inspired by Narcissa’s love for flowers, she decided to add one to her little cards this year. While yellow roses in particular were the usual symbols of friendship, she decided for Alstroemeria, or otherwise known as Peruvian lilies. One for Hermione, one for Neville, one for Hannah, three for Luna, Rolf, and their pet kneazle, one for Gwenog who had been her mentor for all these years. That was her usual list of names. This year she added another to them - Narcissa, who inspired the flowers in the first place.

They haven’t seen each other since the wedding but had exchanged a couple of letters as the wedding photos were sent out to the nearest and dearest of the happy couple. Sending flowers to Narcissa was tricky around this time of the year, as today marked the one year anniversary of her husband’s death. Personally she hoped Lucius rotted in hell, but it was clear that despite the arranged nature of their marriage, the Malfoys had in the least been friends and confidantes for many years, if not in love at one point before Lucius’ machinations affected the whole family. And Ginny could respect that. Had her parents been traditional pureblood, she could have found herself with little choice and an arrangement of her own.

With that in mind, she decided to send a small bouquet of seven yellow and pink Peruvian lilies with an addition - a single white lily to recognise Narcissa’s mourning and passing of someone close, bringing the small bouquet to an even number for the occasion. She hoped the blonde would appreciate the gesture at least. 

With her little messages sent out, she got ready to spend the day house-hunting in her own company. Perhaps not the way many would choose to spend Valentines day, but to her it was another Wednesday and she had a few days yet to the Ball of Blessings. They were now nearly three weeks into the ball season and she had already declined attendance at the ‘Ball of Heroes’ which was a Ministry travesty, and the ‘Sports Ball’ which she knew Morrigan attended with her new American partner. She usually attended each year but was a glad to take a breather this year.

The Ball of Blessings was however inevitable, merely by the fact that it was hosted by the Malfoy family this year. While Hermione and Draco took a lovely honeymoon, preparations overseen by Narcissa and the dutiful Malfoy elves were in full swing to honour the occasion. This particular ball was hosted every year on the Saturday of or following Valentine's Day, and its purpose was to share blessings in their community for new couples, blooming courting and companionship, as well as friendships. It was a place to play the matchmaker as well as to honour bonds already built. Or as Ginny liked to think of it, it was the formal match-making event, which proceeded the pagan revelries that always happened at Beltane. She had hoped to avoid it but when Hermione mentioned they were hosting this year, she knew there was no escape. 

Well, she could at least attend on her own terms. She smiled to herself before popping her earbuds in and setting her iPod on shuffle, heading towards muggle London with her hands in her pockets and Arctic Monkeys’ _I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’_ making her hips sway.

* * *

In the Black family townhouse in Cheltenham, Narcissa was just finalising the canapé menu for Saturday when Bitsy popped into view with a long but slim rectangular box in her arms.

“What is this, Bitsy?” she asked, taking off her reading glasses as she turned to the young elf.

“Forgive Bitsy from interrupting, Mistress. This arrived at the Malfoy Manor for Mistress this morning during your visit but Bitsy now finds it addressed to Mistress in the mail,” she offered the parcel, her ears dropping a bit at the oversight. 

“That’s perfectly alright, Bitsy, thank you for brining it for me. Please go see Lindy in the kitchens for the silver platter we discussed this morning,” she suggested and watched as the elf popped out quietly. 

She looked at the parcel in surprise before noticing the ‘Bloom & Bond’ logo on the side. Ah, mustbe from Draco, she thought to herself as her son had always been sweet to recognise her with flowers and exotic plants for her greenhouses on special occasions and birthdays. Sometimes on Valentines he sent a few tulips for her table as well when his father was preoccupied and didn’t notice. 

She opened the box with a flick of her wand, looking forward to finding out the colour of her tulips this year when an unfamiliar handwriting caught her attention on the attached card. She picked it up and opened it gently, realising where she had seen the rounded handwriting before - Ginevra.

_Dear Narcissa,_

_This Valentine’s Day, I would like to thank you for your friendship and offer my condolences for your recent loss. Please know I appreciate your support and have grown fond of our time spent planning the wedding. I hope we can meet again soon, at least for tea if not for another grand occasion._

_Fondly,_

_Ginny Weasley_

It was surprising in the best of ways - carefully worded but warm and honest. It was something she appreciated about the young woman - she was bright, vivacious, had the stubbornness of a Gryffindor for sure, but also more tact than most of the Weasley brood when she decided to use it instead of her sharp tongue. It was a trait Narcissa enjoyed, and while she herself was most certainly brought up differently with the pureblood ideals and Slytherin propensity for rarely sharing her mind, there was yet the creativity and focus of her secret Ravenclaw nature that only got to flourish in the time of peace between the wars and in the confines of her home.

A part of her felt perhaps it was not the right time, Lucius was in the ground but a year, not that there was much love left between them by the end of the Second war. She was still a widow with an adult son, perhaps too old to be thinking of a young woman twenty-five years her junior. And yet, her instincts told her she’s found someone worthy of her interest, someone intriguing, full of passion and joy, and fervour to match her curiosity. They had a few interests in common and few that they could help each other discover, and for once it was something she was much looking forward to exploring. But in the meantime, she would have to be cautious for that brilliant flaming hair and bright caramel eyes to not be her undoing.

She set the card aside for the moment and opened the tissue paper, her lips stretching into a soft smile at the sight of the beautiful flowers and the respectful acknowledgement of her bereavement in the eight lily.

Yes, no matter what was said of her, Narcissa Black was ready to live her life as she wished, and that was surely to include one Miss Weasley…

**17th February 2007**

The Ball of Blessings was turning out to be the Ball of the season as it easily drew a guest list of over 400 dignitaries, high society families and many of the war heroes. Ginny had feared that this year would be difficult as her family traditionally attended the ball as well but with the new young Malfoy couple hosting it, the tensions could be too high. It seemed however that they would rather attend the ball no matter where it was hosted than miss it because of the hosts. She only hoped everyone would behave. 

She gave herself a final once-over, knowing she was set to turn a few heads. The magical world was a wonderful place but the more she visited the muggle world, the more she appreciated the customs, cultures and incredible inventions. And Morgana did they make excellent clothes. It would be first at a magical ball, and she had contemplated softening the look but in the end decided against it. She was going to do this on her terms, not even Hermione was any wiser to it, but she was sure her friend would approve.

Wand in the holster, she flooed to the ante-chamber at the Malfoy Manor where she was greeted by an elf who looked startled but led her to the short queue by the door. The Ball of Blessings had its rules, such as expected dress code, compulsory number of dances, and being announced at arrival, either alone or with your significant other. The gossip always ran all the more when someone single entered, as it meant a potential match to be made that evening. 

She could already feel a few looks as the queue moved, the people behind her speaking in whispers, but her hands were in her pockets and back straight, bracing for the impact with a mask of confidence.

“Ginevra Weasley,” the usher announced her arrival and she stepped into the grand hall, stopping momentarily for the flashing cameras with a smile before moving on. The conversation hushed for a moment as she stepped forward before the buzz of gossip began. 

“What is she wearing?” one of the voices carried over to her and she turned to look at her sister-in-law with a smile, making Lavender blush at being caught with her open critique. 

On the other side of the hall, she spotted Hermione in a sleek black mermaid dress that hid none of the scars on her chest and shoulders that she proudly showed as a war heroine, grinning at her in approval. Standing beside her was none other than Pansy Zabini, looking equally chic in a muggle black satin dress that enhanced her trim figure. She walked over to them and the buzz in the room intensified at the sight of the three women in black, each breaking Ball convention in their own little way.

“A muggle suit for this kind of occasion? Brava, Weasley,” Pansy offered with a grin.

Hermione chuckled. “I knew you were planning something but I had no idea it was this,” she gestured over her body. 

It was a well-tailored black suit, trousers that highlighted her slim, athletic legs, and blazer with two buttons that remained fastened, a hint of black silk camisole peaking between the lapels. She had considered flat shoes but decided to wear power heels instead, the black suede Louboutins with patented red soles complimenting her outfit with a feminine touch. She didn’t consider herself a femme or a butch by any means, she loved a dress as much as she loved a more androgynous look no matter what people thought of her as a sport-playing lesbian. She hoped this would shake up the fashion scene a bit and prove that ultimately she could wear and be whatever she wanted without fitting into one box.

“I wanted to be comfortable tonight, felt like a good time for a change,” she admitted, feeling invigorated. Yesterday she signed the lease on a new house, and she had already spoken to Luna in confidence about joining her investigative team at the Quibbler once her dissertation was handed in next month.

“I think we’ve all been marked as non-traditionalists at this point,” Hermione gestured vaguely with her glass of prosecco as if talking about the weather despite snippets of gossip such as _‘horrid scars’, ‘muggle dress’_ and _‘a woman wearing that?’_ clearly audible to them.

“You may have married into one of the most ancient houses in Britain but you’ll always be known as the radical muggleborn war-heroine,” Ginny pointed out. “Pansy is rich enough to do and wear pretty much whatever she fancies, and I’m kind of past caring about public opinion at this point. Oh look, my mother is glaring at me,” she mused and smiled at the fuming Weasley matriarch before turning back to look at her friends.

Hermione snorted softly. “If I had a sickle for every time Molly Weasley glared at me at this point, I could single-handedly fund the expenses of my department for a year,” she said simply. It was clear she was still hurt that her relationship with most of the Weasleys ended, but accepting that this was what it was simply going to be like. 

Ginny reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “Ignore them. The hypocrisy of their presence in your home is not lost on anyone in this room,” she pointed out. “Besides, Lavender is on top form tonight with her bitchy comments, it’s technically only a matter of time before she insults someone who retaliates with magic or social humiliation,” she pointed out.

Pansy’s grin widened. “Honestly Weasley, I know you’ve always had a backbone, even when you were irritating back at school, but when did you become this sharp?”

“Oh thanks, a compliment from Pansy Parkinson? I think I need to sit down,” she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Zabini now,” Blaise appeared at Pansy’s side, wrapping an easy arm around her tiny waist as she melted into his side. “And you all look ravishing this evening, ladies,” he nodded to the Gryffindors.

“Seconded,” Draco approached and offered Hermione his elbow gallantly, which she took with a pleased smile. “Time to open the ball, you ready love?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Hermione sighed. “Want to join us, Gin?” she asked, not wanting her friend to be alone.

“You four go ahead and enjoy the first dance, I’m going to grab a drink,” she waved them off and made her way around the edge of the small tables to the bar where she decided to order something different tonight.

Hermione and Draco opened the ball with a short welcoming speech as the hosts, encouraging unity between their communities and inviting all to join them for the first dance. It took a couple of minutes but her French absinthe was ready, and Ginny sipped it carefully as she found a seat at one of the empty tables, watching her friends and ex-classmates making their way around the dance floor in a graceful waltz. She was just thinking about how much she missed Bill, Charlie, and George, none of whom were present tonight as they were all abroad, when the chair beside her was pulled away from the table.

Narcissa lowered herself into the seat beside her, their eyes meeting for a moment before she looked back out over the dancing crowd. She was the epitome of elegance in a soft champagne coloured gown, her blonde locks twisted into a chignon, highlighting her long neck and beautiful profile.

“You look lovely, Narcissa,” she greeted the Black family matriarch in an echo of the greeting they shared at Draco and Hermione’s engagement evening.

“I could say the same for you, but I fear ‘lovely’ would be quite an understatement,” Narcissa responded, her gaze returning to the redhead, taking in her elegant high ponytail that made coppery waves fall past her shoulders in an intriguing cascade, and the way the buttoned blazer opened up just a little at the top by the lapel to spot a peaked nipple pressing against the black satin camisole. “I’m not much of rule breaker myself, only when the benefits outweigh the cost, but this bold move is certainly appreciated. I must inquire after your tailor,” she offered. 

Unaware that she needed to hear it but pleased by Narcissa’s approval, Ginny’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to take you out for lunch in my favourite part of muggle London then, it's where my tailor is. I would be happy to make us an appointment. I dare say a pinstripe suit would look quite lovely on you,” she offered. 

“Well then, it’s a date,” Narcissa nodded and reached for her small clutch, clicking it open with a wandless spell. “Thank you for the Valentines day flowers, I appreciate the gesture greatly. I hope you will allow me to offer something in return?” she asked.

Ginny nodded, wondering what she had in mind before noticing the beautiful the sparkling yellow gold and shiny light red garnet stones. It was a beautiful jewelled pin that would be perfect for her lapel, the lovely curved yellow gold stem leading into signature petals of red garnet stones folded over each other. A single light red carnation, a flower she didn’t need her book to help her understand it meaning. Narcissa was offering her the flower of admiration and fledgling love, one of the two flowers traditionally given at the beginning of a courtship in their world, in the palm of her elegant hand. 

Her gaze flicked back up to look into those beautiful blue eyes and she saw the unspoken question there, an offering to explore the tentative feelings that have been growing beyond mutual admiration and friendship between them quietly for the past 8 months as they planned the wedding of their dear ones. And she only had one response to such a gesture. She picked the floor up gently and pinned it to the lapel of her blazer proudly, on the left side of the chest over her heart. It was a much simpler gesture in return for Narcissa’s brave offering but she knew the blonde would understand its meaning. Her hand returned to Narcissa’s under the table and she felt an answering squeeze as they just shared a moment of quiet companionship at this next step for them.

It was interrupted by a bright flash of a camera, as one of the photographers for the press swept past before moving onto the next table and the next high-profile guests.

Ginny took a sip from her drink, noting that the music had changed. “I know you promised to save me from dancing with Blaise but it would give the press a bit too much to talk about if we dance together,” she mused before her lips quirked up into a grin. “Would you like to dance anyway?”

Narcissa chuckled and set her own glass down. “Absolutely,” and accepted her hand as they stood and headed for the dance floor. 

The blonde was easily a couple of inches taller than Ginny and most would expect her to lead as the senior partner but the redhead wasn’t having it and gently spun her before pulling their bodies close as they joined the others already dancing a graceful bolero. The murmuring conversation rose for a few moments as they moved together, their movements and close steps an indication that this was not just a witch asking the mother of the host for a dance. She caught sight of Hermione’s grin and Draco’s astonishment from the corner of her eye before focusing on the elegant woman spinning into her body. 

“Please remind me what is the obligatory amount of time and number of dances before we can get out of here?” She asked quietly for her dancing partner’s ears only and muttered a soft wandless muffliato to not be overheard.

Narcissa suppressed her grin but her eyes sparkled with amusement. “One hour and at least five. I will have to dance with Draco at least once, so he can grin for the cameras and quietly ask what it is that I think I’m doing,” she pointed out.

“And I’ll have to dance with Hermione who will no doubt be gleeful in the knowledge that she encouraged me to reach out,” she sighed.

“Did she now?” Narcissa quirked an intrigued brow. 

Ginny nodded as she spun her and held her closer. “She saw we were getting on and through it would be good for me to pursue our friendship. I thought you only saw me as a friend, back in December. But then we spent part of the Yuletide period at the Manor and as we talked and I got to know you, I knew I wanted to be more,” she admitted.

Narcissa nodded. “And the differences between us are not a barrier for you?” She asked, secure in the knowledge that her barely moving lips could not be read if anyone tried despite the privacy spell.

Ginny shook her head. “I’m comfortable if you are. Anything else we figure out as it comes,” she said simply, knowing she was going to enjoy getting to know Narcissa better. 

“Well then,” Narcissa spun for the last time as the song ended and they were being approached by the Draco and Hermione. “Thank you for the first dance, I look forward to all the others we share,” she said softly as they dropped the spell and she caressed Ginny’s cheek in a simple but intimate gesture that wasn’t missed by anyone looking their way.

An hour and a half later, feet starting to ache despite cushioning charms, Narcissa said goodnight to her son and daughter-in-law before leading the redhead to one of the side-entrances to the ballroom that was nearly deserted and up the grand staircase towards their overnight rooms with the promise of a kiss good night, leaving behind the speculating guests.

The photos that were released the following day in the newspaper left little doubt in people’s minds that there was a new power couple on the British Wizarding scene.

**14th February 2008**

The bright sunlight and the sounds of the awakened city and nearby market filled the richly decorated kitchen. Casablanca in February was comfortably warm at twenty degrees, and had hardly any tourists wandering around as the spring season didn’t begin until mid-March. It was the best introduction to Morocco she could have asked for, especially as they were celebrating their one year anniversary this week.

Ginny carefully arranged the fresh msemen on a tray, keeping it warm under a charm as she knew it was one of Narcissa’s favourite breakfast treats. A cup of honey and their cups of mint tea followed, before she slipped into the hallways to fetch the small box she brought with her from England. She picked up the completed tray, carrying it back to the bedroom.

She had left the blonde asleep in bed, looking peaceful and not a day over thirty-five as she smiled in her sleep, her pale skin contracting with the indigo blue of the cotton sheets covering their bed. Now she was awake and leaning against the bedpost, reading a letter that arrived in Ginny’s absence with a beautiful smile.

“Draco?” She asked as she walked over and set the tray down at the end of the bed before walking over to open the balcony door just a little to let the fresh morning air in.

Narcissa looked up from her son’s short missive, her gaze lingering appreciatively on the redhead’s lithe but strong build and beautifully freckled skin of her back only interrupted by the band and crisscross of straps of the sports bra she was wearing. “Who else would bother us here? Honestly he could have waited to tell me when we got back but I think he was too excited. Hermione is expecting,” she smiled proudly, delighted that she was to be a grandmother. 

Ginny beamed. “Hermione must be over the moon! I know she was worried around getting pregnant due to the damage from the war. I’m so happy for them,” she pulled off her socks and slipped into bed, sitting beside her partner to read the short letter, chuckling at the hurried handwriting. “We can give them a call later if you’d like?”

Narcissa nodded and set the letter aside before reaching for the tray. “Later, this smells delicious,” she hummed and reached for one of the flatbreads before noticing the small box. She paused and looked at the redhead, not having expected anything from her today. “I didn’t think we celebrated Valentines day?”

“It’s not what you think,” Ginny precluded as she shuffled to face the blond, crossing her legs nervously under her as she played with the hair tie on her wrist.

Narcissa reached for the box, assessing from its lightness that it was likely a piece of jewellery. And she wasn’t incorrect. It appeared to be a simple but delicately-built silver locket the length of her thumb. She caressed the lovely metalwork before noticing a hinge and popped it open carefully. Inside, she found a blank space on the left side for a photograph of her choosing to always cary with her, and on the other side, a surprise she knew she would cherish deeply. A magically shrunken bloom of white camellia, preserved in clear resin. The reminder of how it all began, with the language of the first flower she ever gifted her partner. 

“I wanted something to remember this first year by, and the first time you gave me something that hinted at what was developing between us. I thought of the first flower you ever gave me and of the day I sent you that lily in response. Happy anniversary, Cissa,” she said softly, hoping the gift was well received. 

“It is precious, thank you,” Narcissa cupped her cheek tenderly before she set the locket down and put the tray on the floor beside the bed. She dipped a finger into the warm honey and licked it with a hum as she sat back up and turned to her partner.

Ginny had in the meantime thrown her hair into a messy bun atop her head, ready to dig into breakfast but was pulled close into a warm, tantalising honeyed kiss instead. Not that she was complaining as Narcissa pulled her down back amongst the sheets, hands greedily pulling her closer as they slipped into her shorts to palm freckled globes of flesh. 

“Is this how you intend to thank me, Lady Black?” She asked cheekily as she trailed a path of kissed down her long pale neck, nipping at the soft veins visible just beneath the pale skin stretched across a delicate collarbone. 

Narcissa tugged the infernal brightly coloured bra and its many straps over Ginny’s head before rolling them over until she was hovering just above her. “Any objections, Miss Weasley? Last chance,” she teased before leaning down to suck on a rosy peaked nipple, nuzzling the soft breast with delight. Ginny was a strong young woman with a body toned by continuous working out that replaced the exercise provided by her previous career. There were a few soft spots that she especially adored to lavish with her attention though - her plump pink lips, these soft little mounds and the flower-soft petals beneath a soft patch of a coarse garden of coppery curls.

“No objections, just had a realisation,” Ginny mused lightly but her eyes spoke of mischief.

“And what would that be?” Narcissa asked as she switched to the other nipple, enjoying the gasp of pleasure the action drew from her lover. 

“Well, I’ve never dated a grandma before,” she grinned widely before squealing and squirming under the blonde’s tickling fingers digging into her sides. “Ah! NO, I take it back! I take it back!”

“What do you take back? You did date a grandmother after all?” she asked pointedly as she frowned but her lips barely contained a responding smile of amusement. 

“No, no that part is true. I’ve never dated a hot grandma either,” she winked cheekily and squealed when more tickles were delivered before she managed to roll them over and pin the blonde down on the bed, groaning when her naked chest met the thin satin of Narcissa’s nightie.

“No more joking about my age,” the blonde grumbled, hooking a lean leg over Ginny’s hip as their hips ground against each other teasingly.

Ginny reached up and stole another kiss, nipping her soft bottom lip just as she knew the blonde liked it. “I’m making no promises right now,” she hummed, kissing her once more before her lips travelled south, pushing the thin straps of the nightie away until the soft breasts slid from the cups. She loved pressing her face into the valley between the jiggly flesh, enjoying the contrast between Narcissa’s moonlight paleness and her rosiness and freckles as she cupped and squeezed the soft mound while her lips pressed kisses to trim belly on their way further down. 

Narcissa’s fingers curled around her messy bun of coppery locks, holding on as she moaned softly at the deliciously firm touch, her hips grinding upwards naturally in response to the teasing. Ginny took in the musky scent of her arousal as she pushed the short material up to reveal the neat patch of slightly darker blond curls and settled down comfortably on her elbows, pushing the long legs up past her shoulders to get to her goal. 

The sweet anticipation of pleasure had Narcissa’s hold on the coppery bun tighten, her back arching as a deep groan escaped her lips when Ginny licked her way firmly tailbone to clit, nuzzling the little bead before tickling it with the tip of her tongue just as she knew would be Narcissa’s undoing. “Inside…I want to feel you..” she encouraged. They took it nice and slow a couple of nights back after a lovely dinner, making love all night and into the early morning, but this morning she could feel free body responding needfully and craved more. 

Taking her cue, Ginny gently pressed one of her fingers inside her wet heat, humming as the walls pressed around her hungrily for a moment in welcome, before gently pulling out only to press back in carefully with two, easily accommodated by Narcissa’s body. “I love to feel you like this…I love when I can feel how much you need to come…” she whispered before curling her fingers along the front wall to that perfect spot that had the blonde gasping and trusting down into her touch greedily.

“Less speaking…more fucking,” she panted, groaning as her sensitive inner thigh was nipped appreciatively at the swearing before the hot tongue returned to her throbbing clit, making her arch all the more into the pleasure. 

Ginny watched her every reaction, every breath that made her chest swell and rock, the rosy flush of Narcissa’s cheeks as her hand picked up pace and a bit more depth, feeling the velvety walls already starting the tighten around her touch. 

“That’s it…” she panted encouragingly. “I want to see you looking at me when you come,” she panted over the sensitive bead before pushing up her body to get closer to her face.

Narcissa rose up on her elbow, pulling Ginny into a messy, musky kiss as her feet planted on the mattress and she pushed firmly against the hand inside her, wanting to feel her as deeply as she could, sensing her body climbing rapidly to that incredible peak.

Their gaze held joined for a few moments longer as the blonde’s breath hitched just before she hurtled over the edge, coming with a high-pitched groan that was one of Ginny’s most favourite sounds. Her eyes closed and features tightened in concentration as she trembled with the force of her orgasm, before her breathing resumed with greedy gulps of air and elbow gave out as she fell back into the soft sheets.

Ginny kept her touch steady until she felt Narcissa’s body loosen its hold on her a little and gently pulled her fingers back out, licking them clean with a pleased hum. She delighted in watching Narcissa come undone under her touch, her skin positively glowing and cheeks rosy with exertion.

She leaned down to kiss the beautiful blonde once more before rolling to lie down beside her, stretching out contently on her side, giving her the chance to watch Narcissa in a languid state. “I love you…” she hummed, her hand reaching out to caress a warm cheek and push an errant blonde strand behind her ear.

Narcissa turned her head to look at her, a small loving smile stretching her lips. “As I love you..” she hummed, but event without the softly-spoken words Ginny felt loved just by the way those stormy howlite eyes looked at her. 

“Fancy some breakfast now that one hunger has been sated?” she offered, looking around the bed to see if she could spot her discarded bra. 

Narcissa got up on her knees and pulled off the nightie over her head in one fell swoop before reaching for Ginny’s knees, tugging sharply towards her until she was seated between the redhead’s parted thighs. “Yes please,” she grinned and reached for the maroon shorts, the last item of clothing in her way.

The last thought Ginny remembered before she reached up to hold onto the bed frame to steady herself and that wicked mouth descended on her was “Happy fucking Valentines day to me..”

**Fin.**


End file.
